That Time Cas And Crowley Got High And Watched Fireworks
by cuddyclothes
Summary: From spn bigpretzel's Summer Vacation Reverse Big Bang. A writer had to claim an artwork. Mine was by patriciatepes and that was the title (above). It is on LJ as "Boardwalk Babylon". The title says it all. Total crack. Kids, don't try this at home!


No, _Courtney Cox_ , not Courtney Love," Crowley snapped at his minion. "We've already got Love, she sold her soul ages ago. If you're going to make a crossroads deal, make sure you get the right actress. She has to be desperate. If Melanie Griffith did it, so will Courtney."

"Yes, sir." The chagrined minion backed away, head down, to the door.

"How can you get that wrong," Crowley muttered to himself, leafing through Us magazine. "I'll have to check to see if we've got all the Kardashians."

There was a flutter of wings. Crowley looked up and scowled.

"Well, if it isn't the mad seraphim."

"Hello, Crowley." Castiel gave the devil a beatific smile. "I come in peace. Namaste."

"This whole insane nature boy routine is _really_ getting on my nerves," Crowley said, not looking up from his magazine. "Why don't you cut off that damn hospital bracelet?"

"This?" Castiel gave it a look. "If I did, it would only appear again." He looked down at his white hospital slippers. "I've always wondered how I would look in wingtips. Did you know that horses can't tap dance? With their hooves, you'd think they could keep a beat—"

" . ."

"I come bearing gifts." Still beaming, Castiel produced a baggie from his pocket. "I have been promised that this is dynamite mary jane. Whatever that is." From his other pocket, he produced a large long Native American pipe. "It's time that we smoked the pipe of peace, Crowley. It's time for me to apologize for—you know—being God, letting out the Leviathan, betraying you. If you don't want to smoke, I can bake a bundt cake."

"No, this piques my interest." Crowley came around his desk and took the baggie from Cas. He opened the baggie and smelled. "Good stuff. Let's have us a smoke, shall we? Perhaps it will take the edge of my wanting to rip your liver out through your throat. Where did you get this?"

"I was following the bees and I came across a group of young people camping in the woods. Lovely folk, if a tad unhygienic. I traded fresh honey for this. I—I was assured of its quality."

Crowley snapped his fingers and the peace pipe turned into a large elaborate porcelain bong painted with ornamental dragons. They sat on his office couch and Crowley put it on the coffee table. "I'm not going to smoke from some headshop crap. We need to do it up proper. Purified water, of course." Delicately, Crowley tamped down the marijuana into the bowl and lit it. "Me first." He took a long, long inhale of the white smoke, let it out after a minute, and smiled. "Ah, yes, that's good stuff, that is. Primo."

He passed the bong to Cas, who imitated Crowley, only with a little coughing. They passed the bong back and forth, until they had smoked the entire baggie's contents.

"Holy crap, I'm stoned," Crowley said happily. "I haven't been this high since...well, never."

"It does produce a very pleasant sensation," Cas agreed. "I feel...hungry?"

"Yes, I'm a bit peckish meself." Crowley sat up. "I know just where to go!" He snapped his fingers.

"What is this place?" Cas craned his head back and forth, staring at the crowds of people, the lights, and the dark ocean beyond.

"The Atlantic City, boardwalk, mate! It's the Fourth of July! These Yanks celebrate this stupid holiday—" Crowley paused. "Lost my train of thought."

"Something smells awfully good," Cas said, pointing toward a cotton candy vendor.

Eight cotton candies each later, Crowley and Cas staged a raid on a hot dog stand, Crowley snapping his fingers to make the long line disappear. "Hey!" the seller yelled, as the two non-humans gobbled up hot dogs, big pretzels, and slushies.

"You, be quiet," said Crowley, ready to snap his fingers to make the man explode. Then he lowered his hand. "Nah, feeling too mellow to kill ya."

"Condiment fight!" Cas yelled, grabbing a metal tray of relish and throwing the contents at Crowley, laughing. Crowley snapped his fingers. "Watch the suit, mate!" He then made a huge mustard canister rise in the air and pump its contents on Castiel's head. They continued to throw mustard, ketchup, and sauerkraut at each other, laughing their heads off. Cas got the worst of the deal, since he couldn't make the condiments disappear the way Crowley did. The owner of the stand crouched behind the soda machine, mouth open. A crowd had gathered.

"Hoo! Hoo! Hoo!" they yelled, cheering and fist pumping when Crowley splattered Cas with a spray of cooked onions. Crowley took a bow, still impeccable. Castiel looked like a hot dog in a trenchcoat.

"I won, you stupid angel," Crowley crowed, thumbs in his lapels. "_Never_ take on the King of Hell in a food fight." He drew his finger through a pile of sauerkraut on Cas's shoulder and popped it in his mouth. Then he started giggling again. "You look like an absolutely foul abstract painting! By a mentally challenged five year old! I've seen slaughtered minions that looked better than you do."

Cas looked down at his food-covered self and also started giggling. "You're the King of Ketchup! I bow before the Ruler of all...uh...I lost my train of thought." He looked out at the darkness. "The ocean!" he exclaimed, and was gone in a flurry of feathers.

The owner of the hot dog stand continued to stare from behind the soda machine. Crowley gave him an unusually benevolent look. "You, my friend, are in good fortune. I'm too smashed to make you explode. In fact, I shall return your customers."

The waiting line reappeared, confused. Even more confused when they stared at the mess.

Crowley snagged another big pretzel and walked away.

Castiel was suddenly in front of him, sopping wet. "I am free of all the foodstuffs you saw fit to cover me," he said, with a stoned grin. "In fact, as I returned I spotted a fudge shop. Is fudge good?"

"Is fudge GOOD," Crowley said in disbelief. "Fudge is _Le meilleurabsolue_ of thick, rich sweetness! Onward!"

Before they could raid Oh Fudge!, there was a screaming sound in the air, and a colorful blast over their heads.

Castiel dropped to the boardwalk on his knees."That is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen."

"Oh my God, it's absolutely cosmic," Crowley said in awe, gripping the rail. "Never such wonders in heaven and earth..."

They stared upward in wonder, as the fireworks screamed and exploded above them, bright colors shimmering to the ground. It seemed to go on forever. The crowd around them cheered at each new firework. Both Crowley and Cas cheered as well. Crowley handed Cas a thick slab of goo.

"What is it?" Cas continued to stare up, not looking at what The King Of Hell had given him.

"Marshmallow fudge," Crowley said, mouth full. He swallowed. "It's heaven, if heaven had anything good going for it."

"This is too good for heaven," Cas said, and started laughing. He took a bite. "This is iniquity in sugar! Sin in sucrose form!"

"Don't start rubbing it on yourself, you lunatic. OH MY GOD, LOOK AT THAT ONE!" Crowley gave a triumphant shout as a particularly huge yellow ball exploded into blue cascades.

They couldn't stop laughing, watching the fireworks, eating fudge. Crowley was too fucked up to be evil, and Cas was already out of his mind.

For one glorious night, peace reigned on earth. As did colored gunpowder.


End file.
